With one eye on the advancing robots, Alice tipped Marcos unceremoniously into the back of the plane. She pulled herself into the pilot seat and prepared for takeoff.

Her eyes darted over the unfamiliar controls, scanning the block caps labels for anything useful. There was nothing about closing the canopy, nothing about takeoff. And she had run out of time.

The first of the miners reached the Canvasback, manipulator raised menacingly; three more were seconds away. In desperation Alice yanked back on the flight stick.

The screen flashed 'AUTOPILOT DISENGAGED' and the ship lifted up off the asteroid. Marcos bounced gently off the back seat, but thankfully stayed inside the plane.

A jolt of impact rippled through the ship; a parting blow from the nearest miner. But Petbe was falling away now. They were safe.

Earth loomed enormous through the open canopy. Alice stared into the blue, overtaken by the sensation of falling into an endless ocean. Not wholly incorrect, really. She'd solve that problem later.

First she would tend to Marcos. She leaned back over her seat and retrieved the remaining spare oxygen bottle, handling it with utmost care. Its contents so common on Earth, so very rare up here.

Once again she pumped air into Marcos's suit, praying it would stay put this time. The body inside seemed to twitch. Did he live? Or was that just the fabric expanding from the pressure? No way to be sure. She'd just have to hope.

Alice set about securing Marcos's restraints. It was awkward going, but she managed to seat him and fasten the harness without flying off into space. Hopefully she had it tight enough for the stress of re-entry.

Her own straps were an easier affair, and she soon returned to examining dials and switches. A more thorough examination of the cockpit turned up the canopy control, a lever nestled down beside her seat.

Alice leaned out for a last look at the dwindling Petbe. From here the control pod looked a cancer, a sickly yellow tumor bulging out from grey rock.

Without warning it shuddered violently and ruptured, spraying electronics into the vacuum. Alice took solace from the destruction. Whatever else happened, she had neutralized Petbe. No one else would die from her folly. If she was lucky, maybe she might still even save herself.

Satisfied, Alice pulled the lever to close the canopy. Sealing the compartment brought relief, a tangible closure. It had been a long road to get here. Only one job remained: find the way back.

The touch screen seemed the best place to check next. She tapped it gingerly, as if waking a dozing child. A three-item menu greeted her:

AUTOPILOT CONTROL - SELECT ROUTINE

* TAKEOFF

* DOCKING

* REENTRY

Alice clapped her hands together, then selected the third option. The Canvasback's thrusters kicked in and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was going home.

Her thoughts returned to comatose Marcos, Schrödinger's ex-husband. Had she rescued him? Or was she just a space-age Charon, ferrying the dead below?

And why was there a lump in her throat, an ache in her chest? Just stress. Probably. If only she could peek inside that helmet, collapse the superposition.

Worry stalked her thoughts, gnawing at her nerves. Alice distracted herself by studying the controls. In honesty if she had to take the stick she would almost certainly die. But there was shit else to do, and it was better than dwelling on Marcos.

One indicator on the dashboard stuck out; a top-down outline of the plane marked 'HULL INTEGRITY'. An orange light blinked on the rear-right tail fin, where the mining robot had struck. Some kind of damage apparently, though it didn't seem to be interfering with the autopilot. Hopefully nothing serious.

As they approached Earth Alice's comm link sprung to life.

"Mission control to Commander Oliveira, do you copy?"

Alice confidently flipped the switch to reply, her time with the controls already paying dividends.

"This is Alice Yang standing in. Commander Oliveira was wounded in the operation."

A new voice broke in. Harlow. "Hello Miss Yang. Another casualty on your watch?"

Alice refused to take the bait. "A rogue mining robot attacked Commander Oliveira, incapacitating him. I treated the wound and patched the suit tear, then administered oxygen. I have no way of checking his vitals."

"I see." The radio went quiet. Alice pictured Harlow frowning at a microphone. A few minutes later he came back, changing the subject.

"Do you have a status update Miss Yang? We are still unable to communicate with Petbe."

Alice feigned surprise. "Really? I ran Robert's program on the Petbe system. It completed successfully. I even felt Petbe's thrusters engage."

"Something went wrong. You have to go back."

"Is there enough fuel for that?" Alice asked. "Irrelevant actually. Lynch programmed the mining robots to defend Petbe; when I left they'd swarmed the command pod. There's no way I can get back in."

More silence from ground control. Alice was starting to think they'd given up on her when Harlow came back online.

"You are correct Ms. Yang, the engineers have confirmed you lack fuel for a return trip. Thankfully one thing went right; Petbe has veered from its collision course. We can refuel and make a second attempt at reestablishing communications."

"I wish you luck," Alice said with a smirk.

"There is another issue," Harlow continued. "Telemetry from the Canvasback indicates you sustained damage to a tail fin. The plane will still fly, but if the heat shields are damaged it could cause catastrophic failure on re-entry."

Alice swallowed hard. "What do I do?"

"I'll let Dr. Jones talk you through it.

A new voice came on the line. "Hello Alice, Earl Jones here, head of engineering. We think it should be possible for you to re-enter at an oblique angle to take some heat off the damaged fin. The extra friction will overwhelm your ceramic shielding, but there's an ablative layer that may keep you alive."

"May?"

"This is the ship's first flight. We're in unknown unknowns territory. I wish I had better news for you."

"Fine. How do I program this thing to enter at the correct angle."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. It will have to be manual. If Oliveira's out of commission, you're going to need to fly."

"Okay. So how much do I need to turn it?"

Another delay. The sky seen through the porthole was growing bluer. Alice thought she heard the whisper of wind. They were headed back in.

"We just finished running simulations. We think seven degrees starboard should do it. Look at your control panel. In the top left quadrant you'll see a–"

"I know which dial to look at. I'm making the adjustment now."

Alice gently nudged the flight stick until the appropriate gauge shifted the requisite amount.

"How's that look? Can you see the adjustment I made?"

"We don't have visibility into that Miss Yang. For your sake, I hope you've got it."

"What happens next?"

There was definitely the sound of rushing air now. It sounded fast.

"It's about to get real hot and bumpy. Whatever happens you hold that angle. We'll maintain silence until you're through."

"Roger that."

As promised the ride grew increasingly turbulent. Small bounces grew to a constant vibration. The flight stick rattled under Alice's hands. She kept her eyes on the dial and focused on keeping the needle in position.

The cabin grew hotter, sweat ran down Alice's brow. The view through the porthole changed from blue, to red, to fiery yellow. The canvasback streaked through the atmosphere, trailing fire like a falling star.

A vicious jerk sent the nose off angle. The flames roared higher. Alice fought the turbulence, wrestling the craft back into line. The tail fin had turned red on the hull integrity display, and the rest of the tail had lit up orange.

"Ground control I–"

Harlow cut her off. "We see it. You're not out of the fight yet Alice. Stay focused, you've got this!" The words of encouragement sounded foreign in his mouth.

The cockpit was sweltering now, and the fiery light blinding. Lights flashed insistently across the display and an alarm sounded. Alice blocked it all out.

She relaxed her grip on the stick, closed her eyes, and tuned herself to the rhythm of the plane's bucking. A profound calm washed over her; a surfer conquering the ultimate wave.

She rode the fire like she was born to it, let her instincts guide her hand. The alarm silenced, a few of the warning lights winked out. Alice's calm gradually gave way to excitement, then elation. The thrill of victory surged within her.

The flames died down and the violent shuddering stopped. The aerobraking was complete. Alice released the controls and let the autopilot take over. Her work was done.

The comm link erupted in cheers. Alice grinned, then switched it off.

THE END